


eyes full of dreams

by azkabanned



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 21 Summer, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 00:08:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16862575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azkabanned/pseuds/azkabanned
Summary: He thinks about her, now and then.Or.He has enough memories of her to sustain him for a lifetime.





	eyes full of dreams

 

_Now and then I think about you now and then_  
_When I see that chevrolet_  
_That certain shade, of blue_  
_I hear that song, the one we sang all summer long_  
_And even though it's been so long it brings me back_  
_Right back to you_

_I hope you find the storm that you were chasing_  
_Hope your eyes are still as full of dreams_  
_As they were that night when you slipped off those cut off jeans_  
_When I hear the sound of high tide thunder_  
_I can see your hair blowing in the breeze_  
_I think about how you and that twenty-one summer made a man of me_  
_Yeah you made a man of me_  

(21 Summer by Brothers Osborne)

 

* * *

 

The crisp winter air nips at his skin as he stands at the edge of the lake, the tips of his ears and his fingers start to numb and tingle. He’d told his family he was taking their golden retriever out for a walk, but Boots has been off the leash chasing squirrels. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out here, and the colours in front of his eyes start blending together – the frosty silver surface of the lake and the blue in the sky melts into a shade he’s so familiar with…

 

 _It was their second season on the senior circuit, they had just won their first Four Continents title and impressed the judges with their Umbrellas of Cherbourg free dance._  

 

The exhilaration of victory coursed through their veins as they trained for Worlds. They were the first ones to be at the rink and the last ones to leave, and it would all be worth it.

 

“I like the blue one, it’s pretty,” Scott said as he finishes lacing up his skates one morning.

 

Tessa looked up from tying her own skates beside him, confused and still half asleep.

 

“Your dress, I meant. I like the blue dress,” his cheeks turn a little pink as he clarifies.

 

“I’ll wear it to Worlds instead of the from last week one then?” she asks.

 

He nods and takes her hand as they skated onto the ice. The light blue dress had a certain ethereal quality to it that he didn’t know how to explain. It looked like the sky with rolling clouds when it billowed as she glided on the ice. Sometimes during lifts, it was all that he could see when her skirt inevitably flew in his face. 

 

They portrayed a love story of naïve teenagers that season, a story of sweet innocence torn apart by the cruel timing of fate. The program would win them their first World's medal in Gothenburg. 

 

But what he remembers most is her, in his arms, and that shade of blue. 

 

* * *

 

 

The first time he holds his newborn son, he feels like he’s aged 10 years. Nothing could prepare him for the crushing weight of love, responsibility, fear, and uncertainty on his shoulders. It was like he didn’t know what it meant to be a man until that exact moment. He thinks back to the first time he felt like that, when life threw an emotional curveball at him…

 

_He was 21, and Tessa finally told him that it was physically too painful to skate._

 

His emotions ran through his body like he'd been electrocuted. Fear, uncertainty, love, anger, and hurt. It was October, only a couple months after they won their first medal on the World's podium, and Tessa could barely stroke the ice without grimacing in pain. Apparently she'd skated that entire previous season just willing the pain away, but eventually the pressure building in her muscles and constricting her veins became stronger than her willpower, and the only thing that might allow her to skate competitively again was surgery. They'd have to carve her legs open and remove a part of the connective tissue attached to her muscles, and then wait months to see if she could even take the ice again. 

 

"And you're only telling me now, Tess? We're supposed to be a team, what the hell?" Scott almost yells, his face red and eyes brimming with tears. 

 

Tessa's silent. Her lips are trembling and tears start to roll off her cheeks, and that's all it takes for Scott to shut up and pull her into a hug. His fists are still balled, and he's still angry and hurt and scared, but he hadn't seen Tessa cry since she was 16 and they almost made it to the Olympics — she needed him now. For the first time, their roles were switched; he learned then and there how to control the intensity of his emotions for the benefit of hers.

 

It was also then and there, that the enormity of _**this**_ dawns on him. The enormity of this threat to their promising skating career, their partnership, and everything they've worked for since they were 7 and 9. But mostly the enormity of **_Tessa and Scott_** , and what that means to him — he realizes he may never recover from losing this partnership ( **her** ) or skating ( **with her** ).

 

Suddenly there's this crushing weight on his shoulders, and he's paralyzed with fear, uncertainty, devotion, and love. And he doesn't know how to deal with any of these emotions until he's forced to confront them for the first time two months after her surgery. 

 

It was the first time Tessa (and life) made a man out of him, taught him how to grow the fuck up. 

 

* * *

 

 

He hears her laugh coming from the TV as he makes waffles one morning, and turns around to see that she's doing yet another CTV morning segment. She talks about mental health, body image, and abuse-free sport. She's even more eloquent than when they used to do these segments together, 10 or so years ago, and he sees the determination in her eyes to continue to make a difference in the world of sport. 

 

It's the same determination that he'd seen in her eyes when she was 7 and couldn't skate as fast as him, when she was 16 and they didn't make it to Turin, and when she was 20 and they stepped onto the ice together in Vancouver.

 

That conviction in her gaze only grew fiercer when she was 26 standing at the top of the Great Wall of China telling him she wanted to compete again, and when she was 28 and took his hand in Pyeongchang.

 

When she was 29 and told him she wasn't ready to settle down, that there's a whole world of storms out there to chase, the resolve in her eyes gave him so much pain that he went numb. He'd recover (enough), but the way her green eyes caught the light would never cease to tug at his heart. At times, he was too scared to even look her in the eyes because it just felt like _too much_ — like his soul would leave his body and never find its way home again.

 

But now he realizes that the light in her eyes were a reflection of her endless dreams. He realizes that it's what he loved the most about her, and he prays to the universe that it's never taken away from her. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written anything but financial analysis and excel formulas in like 7 years but here is some mediocre prose inspired by hurtful twangy country music


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